It’s been a rough day.
This is one of those days where nothing seems to go right and the minute hand on the clock just isn’t moving fast enough.
As a result, I’m grumbly. That’s what I call myself when I’m half way between grumpy and grumbling.
I’ll start muttering under my breath about the stupid, annoying things that wouldn’t normally bother me at all. It’s not pleasant for anyone around me when I’m grumbly.
I sat at my computer all day and I forgot to take the necessary breaks to stretch my legs. It’s on a day like this that my legs start to twitch and I get antsy; on grumbly days like this one, I find it very difficult concentrate on the tasks at hand.
I’m sorry to say that I carried my foul mood home with me. The dogs were jumping happily to greet me when I opened the door and instead of greeting them cheerfully, I may have yelled at them to stop jumping. *Sigh* I’m not proud of myself. I’m grumbly.
Now that I’m home and have changed out of my work clothes and taken the dogs for their walk, I am starting to unwind and relax.
To really relax and get back to my normal (usually pleasant) self, there’s no better place then going out to my garden.
As soon as I open the front door and step outside, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It smells green and fresh and clean and it helps to clear my mind. I think most gardeners can relate to this feeling.
It is so peaceful to watch a red-spotted purple butterfly or even a fat bumblebee go from flower to flower in my zinnia patch. It’s relaxing to just stand among my flowers, watching them sway in the breeze.
After just a few minutes of being in my garden, my mood is completely different. I feel grateful. I feel content. I feel connected to the world.
Whether I’m in my garden or just taking a walk, being outside helps me gain perspective. It improves my mood. It increases my concentration and productivity.
My garden is my happy place. Being outdoors always does wonders for my mental state.
So, get outside, enjoy your garden, and come back in with a smile on your face.
